


Not Your Fairy Godmother

by RoseWeaver



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Original Work
Genre: Daughters of Baba Yaga, F/M, Fairy Godmothers, Monster Boyfriend, Slow Burn, Teratophilia, Witches, bastardization of fairy tales, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseWeaver/pseuds/RoseWeaver
Summary: Mira is one of the many daughters (great great great granddaughters) of Baba Yaga. Times are tough, and to make ends meet, Mira has been working at Fairy Godmother’s Inc., a corporation that assigns Fairy Godmothers to help those in need. Too bad she considers the work soul-crushing.Throw an ogre (or many) into the mix, potential class war, and Mira will soon find out just how essential Fairy Godmothers, or witches, can be.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, human/ogre, witch/ogre
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. The Mattress Gig

Riding a broom was not fun if you were going to do it at moderate speeds through Wigston. The city of industry was active at night, and I had to carefully steer my broom above the people and buildings, catching the sharp whiffs of alcohol, frying oil, and smoke. 

The only upside was the slight breeze that cooled upon meeting contact with the sweat on my skin. The night was unseasonably hot and humid. 

It was around 1 o'clock am, and though there would have been nothing I would have enjoyed more than to be curled up in bed, I needed to travel to the far ends of the city to the Montaigne Estate, where my client was four stories up and in dire need of assistance.

What kind of assistance? That was to be determined. As her appointed Fairy Godmother, I was assigned to make her biggest wish come true. In this case, it was finding her true love. Slightly nauseating, I thought, but I wasn't about to complain again. 

How the company, Fairy Godmothers Incorporated, determined who was deserving of the privilege to receive assistance was a closely guarded secret. The Blue Lady, the CEO, was a mysterious and private witch. I had never met her, and I had been with the company for five years. 

It was late nights like these that made me consider leaving the job. Of course, then I would also then have to think about where I would go, what I would do. These were thoughts I didn't have the time to think. 

As the towering white stucco of the Montaigne Estate loomed, I slowed the broom and hovered in place. The moon hung bright and round in the air, and seemed to reflect off the building. My small hand mirror, which was issued by FGI, emitted a yellow blinking light at its clasp as I floated nearer. No guards in sight. 

My eyes strained as I tried to locate the right window. The whole place was deathly quiet. Following the pulsing light of the compact, I raised my broom and lifted upward.

The blinking light turned into a stable beam as I met the center window on the fourth floor. Gingerly, I rapped my fingernails against the glass and pulled back, waiting. 

Then, the heavy pane lifted slowly, revealing the sweaty and drawn face of my client, Miss Clarissa. 

“Come in, quickly!” she urged in a hoarse voice. 

The logistics of this were a bit confounding. I had to first transfer my weight from the hovering broomstick to the pane of the window. Once there, I had to shimmy myself and my broom in- but upon what was another question. Perhaps such a feat would have been easy for Miss Clarissa, who was rail thin, but for someone with round hips and a large chest, I would have to endure some sort of physical discomfort. 

Inwardly steeling myself, I grimaced with the slight pinches I felt as I squeezed my way in. It was imperative that no matter what, the process had to be done as quietly as possible. That meant sliding in very, very slowly. Thankfully, Miss Clarissa was pulling me in, and I landed on a soft surface. 

The inside of the room was dark, lit only by the dim light through the window. 

“What's wrong?” I began to ask, but as my eyes adjusted, the problem was clear. Clarissa and I were now sitting upright on a bed that seemed to be at least 50 feet off the ground. I raised my broom and cast a very dim light spell. A ladder leaned against the far wall. It was also clear that we were seated upon a stack of mattresses. 

How these people could afford so many mattresses was beyond me. Especially if they all slept like this- a tower of mattresses in every room. But I got the sinking feeling that was not the case. 

Shocked, confused, I turned to Clarissa, who was twisting the sheets in her hand. After putting out the light spell I whispered, “What the hell is this?”

Clarissa cradled her face in her hands. “It's awful. She told me it was a special room that they give to their most prestigious guests. I- I...” 

“We’re leaving,” I said flatly. 

“What?! Oh no, Miss Mira, I couldn’t possibly!”

“Then what can I do for you?” I asked, the whisper dampening what would normally be a harsh tone. 

“A sleep spell. Anything. I'm just so afraid of heights.”

I wanted to hang my head in frustration. If this was me, and my supposed future mother in law had given me this, for reasons unclear but undoubtedly cruel, I would run. No question. But that wasn't my job, unfortunately. I wasn't supposed to steer anyone to the right choice, just the one they wanted. 

Which was nonsense. 

“Please, Miss Mira. It's like a test of some sort, I just know it. If I can get through the night, Tristan and I will be together.” 

“It won't just be the two of you together, you know. You'll also get the woman who designed this.” I gestured to the frankly ridiculous mattress tower. 

Miss Clarissa nodded bravely. “I know. It's okay. I-”

She cut herself off and grabbed my arm, her eyes riveted to the door. Turning around, I could see a slat of light that presumably wasn't there before. I froze, ready to cast a spell of invisibility at any moment. But thankfully, such an expenditure of magic was not necessary, for the light disappeared as quickly as it came. However, it did little to abate the urgency and panic Miss Clarissa was currently suffering from. 

“Alright,” I sighed. “You know my thoughts. But I do have sleep powder on me. Just be warned, if you didn't eat a lot, the physical side effects will be there. You'll feel sore all over when you wake up.”

“You're the best, Miss Mira.” Miss Clarissa smiled radiantly. “I will be sure to leave a glowing review.” 

“Yeah yeah,” I grumbled, feeling for the velvet pouch hanging from my belt. I took a pinch of it, cupping my other hand below as not to drop anything. 

“Good luck and sleep tight, Miss Clarissa.” 

Clarissa smiled and closed her eyes in anticipation. 

With a well-practiced flick of the fingers, the powder clouded Clarissa’s face in a glittering purple smoke, before completely dissolving. Within seconds, she dropped back into the bed, sleeping soundly. 

Tsking to myself, I grabbed my broom, climbed back out the window and took myself home. I had done my job, yet again, so why did I feel so defeated?


	2. A New Assignment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So she finished a job, what next? Mira’s next job is personally assigned by the bosses of all bosses at FGI, The Blue Lady.

By the time I returned to my loft in Wigston. I was thoroughly exhausted, physically and mentally. However, I had further business to take care of before retiring for the night. After slipping off my shoes, I flipped open the compact. “Pearl,” I called, “you there?”

The blurry face of Pearl, secretary to the Blue Lady, appeared in the mirror. “Case number?” 

“Ah jeez, Pearl, I don't know. It's the Clarissa Grant case. I need to enter a mark.” 

“Case number, Mira.” 

“Alright, alright. Hold on.” I rummaged through the drawer of my nightstand until I found a crumpled piece of paper. “Okay, I have it. It's W75TL001.”

“First true love case...” Pearl muttered to herself as she input the data.

“Yeah, I try to avoid them. Can you tell me how far along I am now?”

“Did you complete her last request?”

“I just came back, in fact. She couldn't sleep, so I helped her.”

“Well now....how nice. Let's put that in. It reads that her case is now complete.”

“Wait. Really?” That couldn't be right. I mean, yes, Clarissa’s small issue was resolved, but not the big ones. At least not in my eyes. 

“Well done, Mira. Your commission will be deposited later today. I don't suppose you want to receive a new one?”

“Why? You got something for me? Another True Love case?” I mock-shuddered, but Pearl was unaffected. 

“Let's see. The case is in Upton. That's all I have.”

Upton? I couldn't commute to that one, it was so far away. “Really? That's it?”

“Yes. The Blue Lady has a note here that says she will provide more information in person. You would need to report to headquarters first thing tomorrow morning.” 

Now my interest was piqued. If the job was being closely guarded by the queen herself, there was a good chance there'd be a high price tag attached to it. It didn't give me much time to sleep, though. 

“Why don't I talk to Eumelia first?” Eumelia was an old mentor, retired from FGI for almost a year now. 

In the small frame, Pearl shrugged. “She needs to hear back quickly. I'm sure she can find someone else.”

Ugh, I hated games. But I figured I could take the case, talk to Eumelia, and cancel it if necessary. It wouldn't put me in a good light, but I could always say I got sick. 

“Fine. I'll take it.”

“See you at seven.” The screen blurred back into a normal mirror. 

I had one more call to make. Would Eumelia even be up? The FGI operated at all hours, but it was unlikely I would catch the retired witch. Still, it couldn't hurt to try. 

“Dear, this better be an emergency.” Eumelia’s sleepy voice came over the line. She didn't even bother putting the screen on, which I did not blame her for in the slightest. 

“I know, I'm so sorry. Really quick question, I promise. In your experience, did the Blue Lady ever have to give you a case personally?”

There was a long pause. A sigh. “No, Mira. I assume she gave you one?”

“Tomorrow morning I'm to report to headquarters. No clue what it will be until then. But Pearl said something about Upton. Any thoughts?”

“No, I haven't heard much about the goings on in Upton. I'm curious why she would want to handle this so personally. Especially, no offense dear, with you.”

Ouch. 

Eumelia must have guessed she struck a nerve. “Now, don’t get me wrong, dear. You know as well as I do that you've not done much to ingratiate yourself to her. Joining the Union last year, for one. And not to mention being the first witch of the Baba Yaga line to even join the company.”

These were well-tread criticisms, only some of which were warranted. 

“I can't help it, Mellie. I don't trust easily. So why me? Because I was the first one to take the call?”

“Possibly. But I hardly think things are accidental with her. Just be careful, Mira. I’ve got to run.” 

Before I could thank her, the call ended with a chirp, and I closed the compact and set it on the nightstand. 

After washing up and settling into bed, I considered dusting my own face with sleep powder. On top of what tomorrow would bring, the Clarissa case still bothered me. For weeks I had been giving her support as she progressed in her engagement with Sir Tristan Montaigne, whose family seemed utterly bizarre. They clearly disproved of her, and regardless of Tristan’s feelings, that still put her in an unbearable position. I didn't understand how she could stand it. 

Maybe it was the money. Maybe she figured it was all worth it. Or maybe it was something else. 

Whatever the case, helping her sleep seemed like a small, shallow answer to a much bigger question. 

These issues rattled around in my brain, and I was fully prepared to grab the velvet pouch, when Kostya, my black cat, hopped in next to me. Kostya lived both outside and inside, and was the last remnant of my life as the apprentice witch to Madame Moroshka, before I got a job with FGI. His warmth and low rumbling purrs began to calm me down. With him, and the comfort of my one-mattress bed, I eventually fell asleep. 


	3. A 7AM Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira meets with the Blue Lady, who give her some more details regarding the new job.

The Blue Lady didn't have a name. I mean, she most likely did, but no one knew about it. Most witches in the company referred to her as “ma’am,” which is what I planned to do that morning. 

As I prepared to leave my loft to travel a couple of blocks, I tried to think of people who may have actually met her in person. Pearl, for one. Maybe Dorcas, the Union leader. They would have been a good person to check in with, too. But it was already 6:45 in the morning. 

My makeup was applied and I was draped in my customary black cloak, which was belted at the waist. Begrudgingly I wore my badge, as FGI required all its employees to do. 

I locked up and walked out with Kostya, who seemed intent with trotting alongside me. There was really no reason to fly, as the headquarters was only a five minute walk from my place. Not to mention, I was still rather sleepy and wouldn't trust myself to balance on a broomstick. 

“Mira!” I heard someone shout from across the street. It was Sophie, one of the younger witches who worked at the agency. She was buttoning a corduroy coat and smiling broadly as she jogged towards me. 

“Hey Soph,” I waved.

“It's been a while! Did you just get back?” She kneeled down and gave Kostya a cheerful pat on his head. 

“Yeah, last night. Come, we can walk together. I'll tell you about it. Are you heading to HQ?”

“Yup! For Some training. But you never go to HQ. Unless there’s a meeting or something.”

Sophie was always quick to get to the point. I looked at her sideways. I guess it wouldn't hurt. “I have a meeting. With...you, know. Her majesty.”

“Wow.” Sophie’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Are you in trouble or something? You're not getting fired?”

“No...” We rounded the corner. The three-story FGI Headquarters was now in our sights. Witches on brooms could be seen flying out from the top floor. “It's about a job. Possibly.” 

“Really!” Sophie shuddered and jammed her hands in her coat pockets. I could tell she was conflicted, much in the same way I was. “So it's a good thing?” She asked. 

“No clue,” I smiled. “But, hey, if it turns out I have to go back and peel potatoes for Madame Moroshka, I will.” 

Sophie laughed, shaking her head. She was going to reply, but the proximity of the building seemed to silence her. Not only that, we were now getting merged with a group of witches of all shapes, sizes, and ages on their way in.

Over the murmur of the crowd, I had to raise my voice. “So, what kind of training?” I asked. 

“Oh, you know, basic stuff. Magic measurements. My client ended up with, erm, crops much...uh...taller, I guess you could say, than he would have liked.” 

I raised my eyebrow, trying to envision exactly what had happened, when the warm, heady air of FGI enveloped us. 

“It was good seeing you, Mirs. Let's talk again, soon.” And with a wave, Sophie disappeared up the stairs of the lobby, past Pearl’s desk. 

Pearl’s desk was in the center, a dark polished mahogany, almost as tall as poor Miss Clarissa’s mattresses. If I could squint, I could see her ancient face behind a thick pair of wire rimmed spectacles, behind stacks of books and ledgers. 

“Badge Number?” Her voice boomed from below. 

“It's me, Mira. We talked last night.” 

“Badge. Number.” 

“Uh...Hold on.” Perhaps it was a good thing I wore the badge after all. Peering at the back of it, I located my number. “294787591.” 

“Seven am appointment. This way.” 

I was ready to start walking past her desk to the main stairs, when the front of her desk began to slide open with a great, creaking groan.

The sudden reveal of a hidden room was a shock to me and the other surrounding witches, many of whom jumped back in surprise. Approaching it carefully, I saw it was a dimly lit hole with cobblestone steps leading down. 

“Go, Mira. You'll be fine.” Pearl’s bored voice from above was hardly a comfort. 

Gingerly, I took out my broom, and checked to see if Kostya understood to follow me. His green eyes were locked to the entrance, and so I began my descent. 

It was too early for this nonsense. The warm, perfumed smells of the lobby grew fainter and fainter, and were replaced with a cold, metallic atmosphere. In my five years of working as a fairy godmother for FGI, no one had ever mentioned a secret underground office. Not even Dorcas. 

Eventually the steps ended into a hall, which was illuminated with flickering sconces. Gripping my broom, and followed by Kostya, I came upon the room, in which a woman, her face an obscured shadow beneath a blue velvet hood, sat at a desk. Unlike Pearl’s, it was sleek and low to the ground. 

The office was clean, spare and completely silent, aside from the gentle crackling from a fireplace. The flames, green and orange, cast strange shadows on the walls. 

“Um, ma’am?” I asked timidly, after knocking on the door.

“Come, Mira. Sit. I've been expecting you.” 

Heart pounding, I took a seat across from her. I could feel Kostya at my heels. I strained my eyes to see her face, but it was too dark. On the desk were neatly piled files and papers, but I couldn't make out what they were. 

“Now Mira, I am sure you have questions about this job in Upton.” 

“Uh, yes. I do.”

“Including why I selected you to take this job.”

“Pearl, ma’am, suggested it was to be offered to anyone willing.” 

“Hm.” Was that a smile? “It certainly is in Pearl’s best interest to secure commitment to each assignment. In your case, however, I know you are not exactly my biggest fan.” 

And how did A relate to B here? “In all fairness, ma’am, I am no one’s biggest fan.”

“Ah, perhaps except for your Patron Witch, correct?”

“Yes.” The wooden seat was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. 

“In any case, your covenant to Baba Yaga may prove to be especially useful here. Upton Village is undergoing quiet, yet massive changes. They will need a lot of help.” 

“With all due respect, ma’am, who specifically will need help? What are the expectations? How long do you expect me to stay there? And-” what is the pay, I wanted to ask, but held back. I should have had Dorcas here. A union rep would have been able to take care of this for me. 

But the Blue Lady had answers, and a small slip of paper. “Give it a month, Mira. You may stay at this address. The clients will be expecting you, and they will be able to explain more. I have also noted the pay- it is a salaried stipend. “

I reached across the desk to take the paper. The address I of course did not recognize, but the pay was another matter entirely. This was rather big. This was cash out any sick days, turn in your papers, and start up your own bookshop big. 

Speechless, I carefully folded the paper and slipped it in my bag. 

“Report to the location no later than tomorrow morning. And pack liberally. This time of year is rather cold and dreary for Upton. And please, Mira, do be careful. You will check in with Pearl weekly.” 

“Of course.” I stood up from my seat, suddenly feeling ungainly and awkward. 

“You will do a wonderful job. I just know it.” 

If there was a look of reassurance on the woman’s face I had no way of knowing. 

Instead, I nodded, turned, and trudged my way back upstairs, thinking of all I would have to do. For starters, I'd have to dig out my expansive rummage bag, and pack Kostya’s case. I'd have to prep some meals for the trip, fill up my water skins, withdraw some funds....enough that should cover an indefinite amount of time. 

And though on one hand my complete lack of knowledge about this case scared and frustrated me, I couldn't deny there was something exciting about it. It was like I was making it up as I went. What could be better than that?


	4. The Blueberry Gig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira meets her newest clients in Upton Village.

I was sitting in the small living room across from a very tired and hungry looking man and woman. While they had been kind enough so far, their colorless faces regarded me with uncertainty. I couldn't blame them.

“You want me to get you blueberries.” I repeated.

“That’s right, Miss,” the woman said in a voice nearing a whisper.

I stifled the urge to cry. I flew miles through the rain, wind, sleet, only to arrive at the most depressing little village I have ever laid eyes on, and only for this couple to ask me to get them blueberries.

Rescuing someone from a mattress tower made more sense.

But I wasn't going to deny this couple- my clients. I would be heartless to. It seemed to me that Catherine and Seth were living in extremely modest conditions, in a tiny village clearly deprived from the bounty and industry of its neighboring city. Upton Village, though presumably affordable to live in, was barren, aside from some straggly trees and yellowed patches of grass. To top it all off, Catherine was pregnant.

“We prayed for some kind of relief,” Seth said. His face broke into a small smile. He was holding Catherine’s hand with a gentle kind of reverence that made my heart ache slightly.

“There are stories, right Miss? Of expecting women who can't sleep for want of very particular thing? I haven't had blueberries since I was a girl, in the city...” Her grey eyes became misty, and she patted her rounded belly.

“Of course. Pregnant women get cravings for all sorts of things. Greens, vinegar. It makes sense. My only question is, as you two are much more familiar with this place than I am, where can I get blueberries? The city?”

I am sure I had enough in my pouch for a container of blueberries, even three. A small investment for an overall large return.

But they looked nervously at each other.

“The farmers revolted long ago. No produce coming in or out of the city,” Seth explained. 

“But...There is a forest,” Catherine added.

Yes, I remembered passing it overhead. It was a formidable forest, which extended to the coast and sort of cupped the village in the shape of a claw. 

“Alright, that shouldn’t be a problem.” I smiled, taking out my compact. “A simple triangulation spell and you shall have blueberries before the sunrise.”

For some reason, this very optimistic prognosis of events stirred something in the two of them. Catherine started in her seat, grasping her rounded belly with her palm.

“You would go into the forest? At night?” Catherine exclaimed.

“I wouldn't be so hasty, Miss,” Seth added.

“Why not?”

“We were hoping that, as an illustrious Fairy Godmother, you would find a way to get the blueberries while avoiding the ogres,” Catherine said, looking at the floor.

“Ogres?” There it was. There was the catch. There was the price tag dangling in front of me, and subsequently floating away.

“We should have said something earlier,” Catherine said. “They're most active at night...at least that's what the villagers say.”

“Which is why you should rest first. Don't go tonight.”

“I will be honest,” I said slowly, still trying to maintain some positive tone, “I have never encountered ogres before. I haven't even done much research about them.”

Seth explained further. “Beyond the forest is their kingdom. But a handful of them lurk in the forest as spies, terrorizing any folk who accidentally stumble upon them. They’re the real reason this village is ignored and left to starve by the rest of the world.”

I would have blamed corrupt industrialists, but I kept quiet.

“I see my job deserves a bit more consideration than I initially thought,” I said after a while. “I think I will take your advice. I'll retire for the night, do some research, and begin in the morning.”

“Thank you miss. I mean it so very much,” Catherine said. “But are you sure you don't want food or anything? We still have some stew left.”

I didn't feel comfortable eating their food, and I thought about the emergency supply in my bag. “I ate on the way, so I'm quite full as it is. But thank you.”

After Catherine showed me to my room, I locked the door, washed up, and retrieved a rather large encyclopedia from my bag. Kostya, who had managed to find a mouse beneath a floor board, was quiet.

“What do you think it says about ogres, Kosty.? I bet Madame Moroshka met some.” Thinking back, it might have been good to give her a call. But I didn't want to- I was not ready.

Instead, I flipped through the pages on ogres. There were frightening illustrations of hulking creatures with empty eyes and wide mouths of boulder-like teeth. The text classified them as intelligent, powerful, and large. It read that they lived in a mountainous kingdom called Baregulch, and that they were highly territorial. Only one encounter with witches was ever recorded. A daughter of Baba Yaga, in fact. She was assisting the ogres in a war and then was cast out. The royal family was deposed and presumed dead, and Baregulch was now a thriving weapons exporter- if the rumors were true. As the text neglected to mentioned the date of any of these events, and I had certainly never heard of them prior, they had little relevance to me. And besides, there was nothing about ogres in forests.  
  
Still, the fear on both Catherine and Seth’s faces was real, and I’d be foolish to ignore it. It could be that these particular ogres, however many there were, who decided to live apart from their people, could have extraordinary unpleasant and dangerous personalities. Or the complete opposite. I knew nothing. 

I closed the book and settled deeper into the bed. I’d go at dawn, I decided, when the sun was beginning to climb. Though I needed to be nimble, I would bring the heavy weaponry- my broom and one relic, if I could find it. The sling bag was magicked to contain as much as a I needed, and a quick rummage brought it into light-the silver comb. One of the few relics my own coven had of our Patron, the silver comb could protect me in a forest.  
  


Regardless of weapons, I’d be ill-prepared without sleep, and so I did just that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ogre (or ogres) shall make an appearance soon, I promise!


End file.
